


To The Sky

by rutobuka



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bathing/Washing, Casual Sex, F/F, Face-Sitting, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rutobuka/pseuds/rutobuka
Summary: While hiking home on a hot summer afternoon, Bilbo stumbles across two strangers in her favorite swimming spot. Things don't go exactly as she expects...





	To The Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyLaran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaran/gifts).



> Thank you for the speedy beta, Mcmanatea and mithrilbikini!

Long, green blades of glass scratch at Bilbo’s fuzzy calves as she treks home after a week-end at Brandy Hall. As her cream-colored skirts gather more and more mud specks, her mother’s voice grows clearer in her mind, berating her for not changing out of them before such a great walk. And what a walk it is! While hugging her cousins goodbye, Bilbo had worn a thick shawl to protect herself from the cool morning mist. Hours later, the shawl had become a nuisance, tied around the strap of her heavy bag, useless under the piercing hot afternoon sun.

The idea of a detour is keeping Bilbo sane for the moment, as her feet direct her to one of her favorite swimming spots. Hobbits of The Shire don’t usually visit it, since it’s at least an hour’s walk away from the village center, and there are plenty of shallow lakes closer by. Therefore, she will probably (and thankfully) be able to freshen up without having to deal with the ear-piercing shrieks of fauntlings.

Bilbo’s flushed face drips with sweat, but she doesn’t even notice it anymore. As she carelessly drags the back of her hand across the damp skin of her brow, the temperature of her limbs feels just as high, or even higher than her forehead. Perhaps it’s just her imagination, but she starts feeling refreshed as soon as she spots the familiar burnt tree stump that marks the way into the woods around the small lake.

The smile fades from her lips as soon as she hears voices coming from behind the trees surrounding her destination.

The voices sound deep, manly. Perhaps it’s a group of farmers washing after a hard day’s work, or... thieves. It could be dangerous to try her luck, even if it’s just to wash the hem of her skirts in the water and leave. Normally, Bilbo would very silently back away and run home, and she’s sure her mother would refrain from chiding her, after explaining how she escaped possible peril. But while standing there, thinking, her pointy ears twitch at the sound of a foreign word. It’s rough, raspy, full of trilling R’s, and it piques her interest.

‘It surely can’t be an elf,’ Bilbo thinks to herself, biting her thumb in curiosity. ‘Or is it? I wonder…’

Without thought, she tiptoes close to a gap between the thick trunks, her neck stretching to sneak a peek over the tall bush that’s covering the view. What if it’s a great pack of goblins? Her heart races.

Oh.

The sight of two dwarves confuses and relieves her all at once. She feels confused because she isn’t sure if they’re truly naked, since their chests and backs are darker than their arms. Are they wearing shirts? Still, she feels relief from catching a look from the middle of their legs, and noticing a lack of “extra accessories”.

Against her better judgement, Bilbo walks closer. A dry twig snaps under her weight, and it doesn’t bother her, since she wants the two foreign figures to notice her arrival and not be surprised by her appearance at the edge of the water. Their heads swivel around to look at her, and Bilbo’s heart sinks at the sight of the fair-haired one’s hand closing around a small dagger.

She quickly opens her unarmed palms in front of herself, backing away from their swimming spot. ‘I’m sorry! I don’t mean harm.’ Remembering their strange words, she wonders if they will be able to understand her language. ‘Um… I’m only here to bathe.’

Her arms flail around while she imitates the gestures of scrubbing herself, and the dwarves’ expressions change from alarm to concern. Perhaps they bathe differently? How can she convey it without coming closer, or seeming dangerous?

‘After a swim... ‘ She points at the water, and spreads her hands in a paddling motion, ‘I’ll be going home.’ Bilbo turns to the side and exaggeratedly pretends to be walking somewhere. The sound of loud gasping makes her turn back around in apprehension.

The dark-haired dwarf is covering their mouth, mirth obvious in their brown eyes. Upon noticing that Bilbo’s stopped her gesturing, their laughter grows louder, and she notices that the other dwarf is twitching, frozen in place, holding in their own snorts.

‘You! Do you understand me, after all?’ Bilbo stamps her feet and walks nearer the edge of the lake with a huff.

‘Of course we do,’ one of them says.

‘That was a treat to watch, though. Thank you,’ the other concludes, the sneer obvious in their tone.

What an embarrassment! Bilbo regrets ever choosing to bathe at all. She haughtily slams her bag against the mossy stone and starts disrobing. Blast these two.

As they giggle and mutter between themselves, Bilbo turns her back to them to peel off the uncomfortably moist outer layers of her bodice. When she leaves, which she hopes will be soon, the road will take her to Bag End from the northeast side. She won’t have put it back on again, thankfully, since there won’t be anyone around to notice the lack of structure of her dress.

The soft breeze brushes her thighs once she pulls her heavy skirts down, and she sighs with happiness. Shucking her clothes off is so pleasurable that it makes her forget the presence of her rascal companions, who have been silent for a while. She takes a seat, skirt in hand, not caring if the moss stains the back of her white shift: her mother won’t inspect her that closely.

It’s dull work, to scrub clothes without soap. The skin on the outside of her thumbs turns red quickly, but she can see the dirt lifting. While working her way through the mud in the fabric, her gaze roams around the clearing, accidentally catching dark eyes watching her closely.

‘What is it?’ she gruffly asks, expecting more mocking from the pair of them.

The olive-skinned dwarf smiles, as if her anger amuses them. ‘Do you want to borrow our bar of soap?’

Bilbo’s brow furrows in frustration. They won’t stop making her feel wrong-footed, even by being kind. Especially the one with the straight hair. ‘Alright. Thank you.’

To her surprise, they both swim across the small lake towards her. ‘Here.’

‘I’ll give it back to you as soon as I’m done,’ she says, looking away from their naked chests, visible above the water, hoping they’ll go back to their corner if she makes her intentions of not stealing the soap clear.

‘You can keep it. I don’t know how your folk wears such light-colored clothes. It seems like you’re always having to wash, isn’t it a waste?’ The dark-haired one says, propping one elbow on the rock next to Bilbo, seemingly comfortable at being so close.

‘Don’t you have to wash yours? I bet it gets dirty just as much as ours.’ Bilbo clicks her tongue in disbelief.

The blond dwarf comes closer, and Bilbo sees them smiling, watching the other dwarf’s reaction.

‘Well, yes. But the outer layers are made of leather, so it doesn’t get wet as easily. It doesn’t stain,’ the brunette says, a small pout forming on their face.

‘Leather? I would certainly melt if I had to wear a layer of it.’ Bilbo smiles smugly when she sees the affronted look in the dwarf’s eyes. A small victory. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t bother to clean this stain if it wasn’t for my parents complaining at the state of my clothes once I arrive home.’

A moment of quietness goes by while Bilbo rubs the wet soap against her palms to form a white tuft of creamy foam.

‘...Are you a child?’ The dwarf asks.

Bilbo’s face flushes as she raises her head, quickly enough to see the blond dwarf pushing the brunette in obvious reprimand. ‘Kíli!’

‘What, I can’t tell! They don’t have any beards, or hair on their bodies!’ the dwarf named Kíli says, their own face reddening in embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s alright. I’m… I’m not a child,’ Bilbo says, her hands busying themselves with the scrubbing. A shadow of doubt forms in her mind: what about dwarves? She doesn’t know anything about them, besides the fact that they sometimes sell their wares in hobbit towns; they have big bushy beards, often adorned with gems; and often cover their heads with capes and hoods. The two dwarves in front of her are doing none of those things, and have quite short beards themselves. ‘Are you? Children, I mean?’

Kíli frowns and laughs, albeit a little too nervously. ‘Of course not. I’m the younger of us two, but I’m a grown-up.’

Glancing back at the older dwarf, Bilbo sees them roll their eyes. Kíli sees it too, and seems to immediately puff up in anger.

‘Fíli, it’s been ten years already! I’m an adult,’ Kíli whines, but desists when they see the derisive smile rise up to Fíli’s eyes. The pale eyelashes are such a contrast to their sibling’s sable ones, but they make quite a sight.

Although Kíli seems to be fighting against Fíli’s mockery, Bilbo fails to see any outer characteristic that may be lacking in their figure. The dark hair on their chest sprawls seemingly endlessly to every which direction, disappearing curiously downwards, under the surface of water. Their chests aren’t quite as generous as Bilbo’s seen on hobbits before, but she sympathizes with a modest breast size. Perhaps that’s another reason why they were unsure of her age. The golden braids on Fíli’s beard seem to be the only indicator of difference between them. Both their broad shoulders and thick arms bulged the same way. Even their long hair seemed to frame their dark nipples on a similar level, swirling or webbing in curious designs, as if showing Bilbo symbols that she can’t decipher.

Bilbo finds herself fumbling when they both visibly turn towards, and glare at her.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘We asked your name. But you were busy drooling at Fíli.’

‘Not just her! … I mean, I’m, I’m… Nevermind that. My name is Bilbo Baggins.’ She grimaces, her hands flying to try to explain, but it’s obviously too late. ‘I’m sorry for staring. I’m not even sure if you’re women, I… Anyway, you’re both very beautiful.’

A tense moment passes by, seeming to Bilbo as an eternity as she looks at her own hands, which have long stopped scrubbing.

‘Do you really mean it? I’m beautiful?’ Kíli’s voice comes from somewhere much closer than before.

‘Well, yes, I… I’m not sure I’ve seen dwarves quite as unique as you two. Now that I say it, I’m actually not even sure I’ve ever seen dwarves that weren’t… um… male?’ Bilbo scratches at her damp neck nervously. ‘Hobbit lasses are much less muscular and… much smaller. Nothing as striking as you both are.’

The water around her feet moves as the two siblings wade nearer. There’s nowhere else to look, so Bilbo catches an eyeful of dwarven bottoms and curly patches of hair as they sit one on each side of her. This should feel just as dangerous as the scenario with the bandits Bilbo had envisioned before, but somehow, it feels strangely exciting. And only slightly mortifying.

‘Do you like women, Bilbo Baggins?’ Fíli asks from Bilbo’s right side.

‘You can call me Bilbo,’ she says, her neck straining to turn her neck to both sides, trying to see what both are up to. ‘Well, what… I do, actually. But I fail to see why that’s relevant.’

Kíli grins widely at Fíli, teeth bared, like a wolf. But upon noticing that Bilbo saw it happen, they close their mouth and look away, still smiling.

‘Wouldn’t you like to have fun with us, then? We’re both women.’ Fíli’s head tilts forward, as if suggesting for Bilbo to kiss her. ‘We find you very cute, you know.’

Bilbo feels her cheeks flare, but it’s not as if she hasn’t done this sort of thing before. She just has never bedded dwarves before, and such unruly, rude ones at that. ‘Is that why you mocked me, then? To make me smitten?’

Kíli snorts on her left. ‘Maybe. But you’re funny, and we like that in a partner.’

‘“We?” Wait…’ Bilbo starts, but Fíli nose caresses her right ear, and the thought completely escapes her mind. ‘Alright, alright. But we better be quick, because I have to be home before nightfall.’

‘I can’t promise anything.’ Fíli’s breath against her earlobe makes her squirm.

Bilbo turns her head to the right, and waits for Fíli to lift her head to finally accept a kiss. No one she’s ever kissed had whiskers, short or long, so at first it’s an odd feeling of contrast between coarse hair and soft lips. A tentative tongue caress makes it even silkier, and Bilbo finds herself enjoying the new sensations very much.

A tug on the fabric Bilbo’s holding makes her clench her fists. ‘Let me hang your skirt up to dry while we’re busy.’ Kíli does so as soon as Bilbo’s hands let go.

She hadn’t noticed that the thick skirts bunched on her lap were even there, let alone making her stomach and thighs way too warm, until Kíli took them away. A breeze hits her damp dress, sneaking underneath her short shift, making her sigh and welcome the refreshment while Fíli keeps her lips busy. The warmth of Fíli’s larger tongue is much less stifling, and Bilbo happily accepts its explorations.

Kíli’s heavy hand takes Bilbo by surprise, pushing the thin fabric of her clothes down, and unceremoniously cupping her breast. With a quiet smacking sound, Bilbo pulls back from Fíli, and looks down to see what Kíli plans to do next. There’s barely any time to speak her mind before Fíli follows suit and bares Bilbo’s right breast.

Shaking her head, Bilbo comments to no one in particular, ‘Am I to sit here and be treated to your caresses, then?’

‘You can take whatever you want from us, Bilbo.’ Kíli’s voice comes out raspy.

As she turns to the left, Kíli steals a kiss from her, which Bilbo accepts willingly. Seeking the dwarf’s lips after the initial peck, Bilbo notices that even though her mustache is shorter than Fíli’s, it’s much rougher against her skin. She’s starting to enjoy the slightly chafing effect of their beards against her cheeks, since it’s so very distant from the velvety quality of all hobbits she’s ever touched. It’s as if dwarves have a rougher approach to love-making, apparent by the way Kíli presses and kneads her breast, not afraid of hobbits breaking like glass, making Bilbo groan against Kíli’s lips in excitement.

Thus, Bilbo expects Fíli’s touches to be equally heavy and firm, but her right nipple is carefully grazed, and gingerly plucked by the dwarf. The contrast between her partners’ styles makes her shiver: it’s confusing, but her thighs press against each other with expectation.

Fíli and Kíli continue to work at her breasts, unaware that Bilbo wants them to move their attention south. Perhaps, Bilbo thinks, she needs to simply assert herself. And so, she brushes Kíli’s hand away from her now red and sensitive nipple to return the caresses with her right hand. It serves as an accidental way to knock Fíli’s hand away from her chest, as well.

Kíli’s breast is around the same size as Bilbo’s, but the areola are much smaller, and it seems that she’s very sensitive to the touch. Pulling away from the lazy kiss she was sharing with Bilbo, Kíli whines against Bilbo’s shoulder, her stomach jumping whenever her nipples are pinched. Her muscular thighs open and close, giving Bilbo a view of the lovely black curls around Kíli’s flushed dark lips, and tan labia peeking through.

Momentarily having forgotten about Fíli, Bilbo’s yet again surprised when she feels a hand pushing between her pudgy legs, thick fingers inching close to her wet folds. The light strokes feel perfect against her wide inner petals, as if Fíli’s very experienced at what she’s doing.

As lovely and exciting as it feels, Bilbo’s mind is torn, since Fíli isn’t receiving any attention. So maybe it’s best to reposition herself to be able to touch them both. ‘Listen, uh… Shouldn’t we change, so everyone gets a bit of love…? Maybe Kíli could stand in front to reach Fíli…’

‘Oh, no, we won’t touch each other. We’re sisters,’ Fíli says casually, her clever fingers still exploring Bilbo’s wetness.

‘What? Wait, but… why both at the same time? Isn’t it odd?’ Bilbo has no siblings, but she knows how strange it can be if a family member is involved when one is having sex. ‘Is it not so for dwarves?’

‘It is, but we don’t need to think too much about it. Let’s just have fun, you with Kíli, and you with me,’ Fíli says, her eyes following the movement of something to the left of Bilbo.

Kíli’s getting up, an obscene grin in her face, and quickly splashing back into the lake to crouch right between Bilbo’s knees. It’s all moving too fast, and Bilbo holds her hands up instinctively.

‘Wait!’

There’s a small silence between the three of them, and even the birds and insects have quieted down for the moment.

It IS strange. It feels like Bilbo’s stepped into one of the tales of her hidden erotic books, their black covers going gray, the paper nearly falling from their binding with how much she’s held them open using only one hand, late at night. These foreign folk (siblings, at that!) just suddenly inviting her for a three-way, without former planning. They’re almost too beautiful and exotic to be true.

Yet, even if it’s all a ruse, or a dream, her impetuous Took half is begging for her to allow it to continue. It can go horribly wrong, but why not give herself a good memory to think of later? Or even an idea for a story to write? Besides, the two dwarves have been waiting for her to consent to any further activity without any protests, and that alone is a very good sign.

With that in mind, Bilbo lowers her hands and relaxes her knees around Kíli’s torso. ‘Alright. Shall we go on?’

Fíli’s mustache braids move as she smiles widely, and Bilbo’s inspired to keep herself busy while Kíli works. She leans back against the warm mossy stone, bringing Fíli’s torso with her. It makes the dwarf wobble, but after scrabbling for support, Bilbo has her right where she wants her. Small breasts covered with a silky-looking covering of curly golden hair cover Bilbo’s view of the woods and the blue sky, and it’s easy to tilt forward to nuzzle at them.

For such a dominant start, the two dwarves seem to be very malleable, sensitive, sweet. Bilbo can hear Fíli’s soft groans as she grazes one of her nipples with her lips, taking it slowly inside her mouth and feeling it contract under the laps of her tongue.

The excitement of causing such pleasure to Fíli is immediately intensified by Kíli spreading Bilbo’s labia and sloppily sliding her wide tongue up and down, as if to clean her from the natural wetness. She stops after a few swipes, focusing the pointy tip of the tongue around Bilbo’s swollen clit, giving it a few lazy rotations, to then closing her mouth around it and continuing the ministrations while applying a gentle suction on it. The actions aren’t new to Bilbo, but the feeling of stubbly prickle is, and it’s fantastic.

Bilbo is practically gasping against Fíli’s chest, but, not wanting the blonde to be left without, she slides her left palm down across the toned body, starting from her breast to stomach, then finally to land on top of the hay-colored curls between her spread legs. The hair is wet from lake water, but sticky from Fíli’s own juices. Bilbo barely has to move her hand, since Fíli’s hips are jumping and rutting against her waiting fingers, painting them with transparent stickiness. Fíli’s small clit rubs against Bilbo’s skin, and jumps with sensitivity when Bilbo nips lightly at her pebbled, dark nipples. It’s almost an assault to her senses, to have her own clit lapped at, while having her palm ridden by another person entirely.

The elbow that’s propping Bilbo up is finally protesting from the roughness of the ground underneath, so she hisses and tries to reposition, just to have Fíli push her to lie flat on her back.

‘Can I…?’ Fíli moves her right knee over Bilbo’s chest to basically straddle her, and Bilbo finds herself pinned to the ground, with a gorgeous view in front of her. Fíli’s hand half-covers her groin, as if embarrassed, but Bilbo can see her middle finger moving to work itself between the hidden lips.

‘Do you want my mouth?’ Bilbo asks, her voice breathy from Kíli’s resumed suctions on unorthodox spots between her thighs.

‘Yes.’ Fíli’s face is very pink, and Bilbo finds it fetching, especially the way it’s spreading downwards towards her dark nipples, making the golden hair on top stand out even more.

Wordlessly, Bilbo pulls Fíli’s heavy bottom closer, a mixture of musk, soap, and spicy scent made even stronger as the hand uncovers the reddened labia. Trying her best to reach around Fíli’s meaty hip, Bilbo spreads the swollen lips to be able to bury mouth to chin in the salty warmth. It’s slightly difficult to find Fíli’s clit with her tongue, but judging from the trembling legs around her face, she’s managing her task well enough.

After the first few swipes, Fíli’s hips resume their insistent pushing motion, just like what she did against Bilbo’s hand, so Bilbo experiments with leaving her tongue stiff for the dwarf to set her own pace. It seems to be exactly what she wants, since she groans and gently holds Bilbo by pressing the crown of her curly head to rut against her mouth. Bilbo herself has only been on top before, and she doesn’t expect it to be as genuinely exciting as it is.

The combination of Kíli’s wild technique and Fíli liberated, animalistic motions against her tongue make her moan against the dwarf’s heated wet skin. Bilbo usually asks her partner to focus on a particular motion so she can peak, but this time it all feels chaotic, a whirlwind of desire, in a lovely, mad way. Kíli doesn’t seem to ever grow tired, sucking Bilbo’s clit into her mouth restlessly, pressing at it tightly, not caring that Bilbo’s thighs are clamping against her head.

Seeking an anchor while a huge wave of feeling crashes against her core, Bilbo digs her face against Fíli’s rowing hip, locking her arms around her. Kíli’s hungry groan reverberates through her bones, and she’s lost in bliss, her hips jittering and pushing, seeking all the stimulus it can get, which Kíli seems to be happy to give. It’s dizzying, having her mouth and nose half covered by damp hair and wet skin, and it only adds to the rush of her release, leaving her knees shaky. She faintly hears Fíli’s sighs and moans, and the question doesn’t even need to leave her lips about if she needs to help with the dwarf’s pleasure: she’s tightly held in place by the hair with two strong fists, and feels a rush of wetness dribble from the side of her cheek as Fíli comes, quivering against her.

Bilbo’s hair is released, and the two of them pant, trying to get their breath back. Fíli swallows, and seems to find it difficult to raise her right leg to sit next to Bilbo. It’s always a little awkward when these encounters don’t start or lead to romance, in Bilbo’s opinion: she and her partners usually hover around, not knowing exactly what to do afterwards. But right as she opens her mouth to cover the silence, she remembers that Kíli hasn’t finished yet.

Lifting herself to look at the sweaty, flushed dwarf between her legs, Kíli seems to understand the situation. ‘I’m okay! I’ve already uh, taken care of myself.’

A blatant lie, Bilbo thinks. ‘Can I at least touch you? I’ve barely felt you at all.’

‘You’re probably tired, though.’ Kíli raises herself from the kneeling position she’d taken, but Bilbo takes her by the hand.

‘Come on.’ Bilbo leans forward, and smells her own scent on Kíli’s beard. After a small pause to allow Kíli to choose, Bilbo brushes her mouth against the swollen, fragrant mouth, and hums with contentedness.

The suddenly shy dwarf seems to be a little less self-conscious after the kiss, and Bilbo’s able to slowly lead her to lie back onto the stone. She’d usually want to lounge and possibly nap after having peaked once, but something about Kíli’s hesitance makes Bilbo break out of the lazy afterglow, peel her white shift off, and jump into the water to stand between the muscular thighs.

A noise alerts her that they’re not alone, making Bilbo berate herself for forgetting she has two partners, but Fíli is moving silently to enter the lake and wash. Perhaps it’s for the best, since now Bilbo can focus her entire attention on the younger dwarf.

Maintaining eye contact to see if she needs to stop, Bilbo inches closer and spreads Kíli’s lips carefully. Her colors are very different from Fíli’s, tanner on the outside, but just as beautiful. Bilbo gladly runs her curious fingers up and down across the silky skin, spreading the abundant wetness around, and making Kíli twitch. She still can’t tell if Kíli prefers a firm or feathery touch, so she tries different levels of strength around her swollen clit and wide labia.

Now that Fíli is occupied with something else, Bilbo notices that Kíli is visibly less shy. Her thick thighs open even wider, one of them being propped up by her foot against the edge of the lake, letting Bilbo comfortably lean against the rock.

Slowly, Bilbo lowers her mouth against Kíli’s center, her tongue stiff. It’s much easier to find her clit, and to bring in between her lips to suck. It works well, but when Bilbo flicks at the flesh with her tongue, it seems to be too much stimulus for Kíli, who jumps and whines. Maybe just the suction would be enough? The fingers of Bilbo’s left hand mindlessly hover towards Kíli’s entrance, since one of her past partners used to enjoy this exact combination. Kíli sighs happily, and her restless knee bumps against Bilbo’s side.

Glad that she’s figuring out a way to please, Bilbo carefully feels around the inside of Kíli’s passage, but since the dwarf is so much taller and overall bigger than any hobbit, it doesn’t seem to be enough. A second finger appears to be very much welcomed, and as Bilbo swirls against the front wall, Kíli groans loudly. This way, Bilbo finds a pattern to follow: short pumps of her fingers, combined with rhythmic pulls of Kíli’s clit into her mouth.

Bilbo’s satisfied to hear Kíli grunting and moaning, the vocalizations getting louder and louder with the steady care, but her right hand is stalling, supporting itself idly on the stone. Smiling to herself from having such a naughty idea, Bilbo coats one finger on Kíli’s wetness and simply nudges it against the crack of her bottom as an added sensation.

It was a lucky guess, and soon, Bilbo’s being pulled against Kíli’s crotch with two strong hands. The way her loud sighs haven’t changed in tone tell Bilbo not to stop, and the three different motions require her entire focus. It pays off, since a few moments later, Kíli’s voice breaks into a silent moan, and her internal contractions can be felt by Bilbo’s fingers, that are still pumping inside. It’s a silent orgasm, but after the initial burst, Kíli pants and hums happily, holding Bilbo’s hair tightly until she’s done.

Although she can feel the telling pressure and thumping of renewed excitement underneath her own clit, Bilbo lifts her head away from the sweet smell of Kíli’s middle, and drowsily blinks up at her face. She receives a brilliant smile and a bristly peck, and while the satiated dwarf dives back into the water to cleanse herself, Bilbo stretches her tired arms and rests her chin down for a quick nap.

 

* * *

 

  
Upon waking up, Bilbo’s confused. The forest has a warm orange tone in front of her, and she can only hear the soft rustling of leaves. While stretching a crick out of her neck and arms, she looks around behind her, and there is no one.

Was it all a dream, after all? Were the two beautiful dwarves nothing but a sort of heatstroke fantasy while she was bathing?

Feeling a little silly, and wholly disappointed, she washes her sticky face in the water and leaves the cool lake. It’s at least lucky that she hasn’t been attacked while sleeping in the wild, or caught a cold. Her clothes are hanging up to dry, including the white shift she dreamed of throwing off to the side while diving into the lake to please an imaginary dwarf. She must be even worse in the head than she thought.

The walk home is just as dull as she expects, but the evening is crisp and comfortable. Stars paint the gradient surface of the sky, the fluffy yellow clouds against light lavender inspiring her to write a story about her creative dream. Maybe other hobbits would find a steamy interlude with two mysterious dwarves just as exciting as her mind did.

She eats dinner, relieved that her parents haven’t complained about the state of her clothes, and goes to her bedroom to separate the laundry and get ready to bed. While unpacking her bag, she smiles at the faint mud specks in her skirts, which she hangs up to wash better later. She pulls a night dress from the much emptier bag, and a heavy objects falls onto the wooden floor, making a loud thunking noise as it vanishes under her bed.

Bilbo kneels to picks it up: it’s like a solid square, a sort of tan, sturdy parchment wrapping around it, held closed by a string. She opens it quickly, and finds that it’s the soap Fíli and Kíli lent her in her dream.

The parchment wrapping has a message, the handwriting very geometrical-looking.

‘We’re camped about one kilometer west from the lake. Come visit us again, and perhaps we can take another bath together if it’s hot.  
Fíli and Kíli’

Bilbo grins and shakes her head. Perhaps she will.

 

 

 


End file.
